The sky above Kurotani High was painted in overcast gray, clouds rolling slow like heavy thoughts. Wind tugged gently at Fujisaki's too-long bangs as he stood near the edge of the school rooftop, his fingers curled loosely over the safety railing, gaze distant and unfocused.

It wasn’t unusual for him to slip away during lunch break. No one missed a plain, awkward boy who barely spoke, not even when he was gone for hours. But today felt different. He wasn’t just hiding.

He was thinking, thinking too hard.

The sharp sting of wind on his skin reminded him he was still here, despite how much he wished he wasn’t. And then—

Footsteps.

He turned sharply. "Ayato... Yuri—?" he stammered, instantly red-faced, his voice catching in his throat as he stumbled backward—too far.

A sudden hand grabbed his wrist just before his heel slipped off the concrete.

And for a brief moment, all Fujisaki could hear was the pounding of his own heart.